


Letting Go

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-07
Updated: 2006-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10154096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Draco shows Harry that there's more to life than being a hero.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

At one o’clock in the morning, the halls of Hogwarts are all but completely deserted. Argus Filch is the only one who roams the halls this late at night, hoping to catch a student out of bed without permission. Even the figures in the paintings are asleep in their frames; dreaming whatever it is that people in paintings dream about. In fact, it would seem that almost everyone in the castle was asleep. Everyone, that is, except a certain “Boy Who Lived.”

Harry Potter swore under his breath as he made his way through the dark corridors. He had just come from his longest, most humiliating detention to date, and was now more aware than ever of how much he hated Snape.

A sudden flash of light briefly illuminated the dark hallway in piercing white light, as a loud crack of thunder echoed throughout the castle. This only intensified Harry’s anger. “At least it’s nice out,” he muttered.

He turned the corner and passed a painting with a sleeping wizard; who appeared to be in his late 80’s, with graying hair and blue and white-stripped pajamas. He had apparently fallen asleep reading the Daily Prophet, as it was now lying in a discarded pile at the foot of his armchair. The tassel at the tip of the old wizard’s nightcap dangled dangerously over his overly large nose, and looked as if it might fly out of the portrait with every snore. It brushed against the tip of his nose and he twitched and snorted in his slumber; muttering something about a hippogriff stealing his precious.

Harry fought back a laugh and concentrated on his anger. These nightly detentions with Snape weren’t just annoying; they were exhausting him and completely ruining his plans. He could’ve spent the evening trying to find out what the hell Malfoy is up to in the Room of Requirement. Undoubtedly it’s something Voldemort wants him to do. Because, well, Malfoy’s evil like that. But what if tonight was the night he’d finally done it? What if he’d found some way to let Voldemort into Hogwarts? What if he was here, right now? What if Harry could have stopped him? If only he didn’t have detention.

Harry’s thoughts were interrupted when something crashed somewhere behind him. He spun around on his heel as more rumbling thunder filled the silent corridors, followed by another flash of light. ‘What the hell was that?’ Harry thought nervously, hoping to God it wasn’t Filtch. The last thing he needed was for that lazy-eyed bastard to catch him strutting about the castle this late at night. ‘Oh, God, I did NOT just say strut.’

Suddenly Harry heard footsteps; echoing so loudly he couldn’t tell where they were coming from. He reached for his invisibility cloak and groaned in frustration when he realised he never risked taking it to detention. Without his cloak, Harry was lost. He had nowhere to go, and the footsteps were getting louder. He was about to make a run for it when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt, pulled him behind a statue and pinned him against the wall. Harry was about to yell in protest until his eyes met piercing gray ones.

“Malfoy?! What the-“ The Slytherin’s hand closed over his mouth and silenced him, “Shut up Potter!” he whispered harshly.

It was then that Harry realised he still heard the footsteps. Through the crack between the statue and the wall, he saw Mrs. Norris prancing down the hallway, followed by Filch and his ever-present lantern. “Where are they precious?” he asked the red-eyed cat as he came to a stop beside the statue where Harry and Draco hid, “They’re around here somewhere I can feel it. Bloody kids. Always sneaking off when they’re supposed to be in bed.”

Harry held his breath and waited as Filch scanned the hall. His heart nearly pounded through his chest as the caretaker’s hazy eyes barely missed his own. 

“Shh!” Draco ordered, and Harry realised he’d made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Lucky for them Filtch was already making his way down the hall. 

“Don’t you worry, luv, we’ll get ‘em,” the caretaker promised, “Bloody kids.” 

Draco strained his neck to see if he had gone, then waited until Filch’s sweet nothings to Mrs. Norris could no longer be heard, and removed his hand from Harry’s mouth. They both let out a sigh of relief.

“What the hell,” Harry asked when he had recovered, “Was that about?”  
“Well, I saved you didn’t I?” Draco sneered.  
“Saved me?! I think that’s pushing it a bit don’t you?”  
“Hardly. Filch is a mean little bastard. God knows what he’d do if he caught you out this late *again.* Besides, you never know who’s on the dark side, right Potter?”  
“Speak for yourself Malfoy.”  
”You know, a simple thank you would have been sufficient.”  
“Thank you?! I-you-evi-Volde-…Hey what are you doing out this late anyway?”  
“I could ask you the same thing.”  
“I had detention. What’s your excuse?”  
“I don’t need one. I’m a prefect.”  
“Ha! Prefect! Well, I guess you would get special privileges when you’re Voldemort’s little slave boy.”

Harry thought he saw Draco wince at Voldemort’s name, but he didn’t have time to think about it. In a second Draco had him up against the wall and his hand was around his throat. He gasped for breath as the Slytherin tightened his grip.

“NEVER speak about him in font of me again,” Draco growled, his face inches from Harry’s.

“What is this Prefect bullshit?” Harry choked out, “You’re the one playing servant to Voldemort, Malfoy, doing whatever he tells you to, just so you look like a bad-ass. And while you’ve been imitating Gollum people are dying!” This time Harry knew he saw Draco wince, and the hand around his throat tightened it’s grip.

“What do you know about it?! Nothing! Stop trying to save the world, Potter! You can’t always be the hero!”  
Now Harry was running out of air, his head was swimming; everything was going black. “Malfoy…” he choked, “Don’t…”

Draco held Harry’s gaze for a moment that seemed so much longer than it really was, before releasing his grip on the Golden Boy’s throat. Harry fell back against the wall, clutching his throat and trying to take in all the air in the castle. Draco didn’t move; still pinning the choking Gryffindor against the wall. 

Harry waited until he caught his breath then looked up at his enemy, “What do you want, Malfoy?”  
“No, Potter, what do you want? You’ve been following me around like a lost puppy for months now, what the hell is that about?”  
“I know what you’re doing.”  
”Oh really? And what exactly is that?” Malfoy’s eyes stared into Harry’s like he could see straight through him. 

He closed his eyes. Partly because he didn’t know how to respond, and partly because he had just become aware that Draco had him pinned against the wall, and it was kinda hot. Suddenly it was if the entire castle has become an oven. Heat pooled in his stomach, his cheeks flushed with colour and his green eyes became as dark as the stormy sky. He opened his eyes and looked at Draco. A jolt of electricity shot through his body and the room started spinning. ‘Shit!’ Harry thought, ‘No, this is NOT happening! Malfoy is defiantly not getting to me!’

“I don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” Harry said finally, still short of breath, although not entirely from being choked, “But I know it’s something…for Him.”

Draco turned Harry’s face to make him look him in the eye, “You know what I think?” He whispered, “I think you need to learn to trust people. Not everyone’s out to get you, Harry.”

Hold the phone. Harry? Since when has Malfoy called him by his first name?

“You want me to trust *you*?”  
“No. But I do think you’re getting a bit obsessed with this whole ‘everyone’s a death eater’ idea. Even your little friends getting tired of it, and while you’re obsessing over people you assume are working for Him, the ones who really are will be right under your nose. And you know they won’t suffer fools or strike a bargain with one, so do yourself a favour and stop gambling with your life. Move on with your life Harry, I’m not who you think I am.”

Malfoy’s voice was barely a whisper, and his face was now inches from Harry’s. Who was finding it exceedingly difficult to form coherent thoughts.

“…Well, you’re still…”   
Malfoy moved his lips to Harry’s ear, “What? Pathetic? A bastard? A foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach? What is it this time?”

It took every bit of concentration and effort Harry had to form a coherent sentence, “All of the above,” he groaned.

Draco laughed against Harry’s ear, who had to bite back a moan. He felt the Slytherin’s gaze on him and opened his eyes, which, appearently he'd closed without knowing. Draco shifted his weight, pinning him harder against the wall, and his eyes traveled down his enemy’s body. 

He put a hand on the wall to balance himself, “You like this don’t you?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips that was so damn sexy it made Harry weak in the knees.

His cheeks turned even redder, “Fuck y--” He was cut short as Draco rolled his hips against him, “Oh God.”

“That’s what I thought,” Draco smirked, tracing the Gryffindor’s lips with his thumb. He watched as Harry’s lips parted willingly, his eyes clouding over. “You know, for hating my guts,” he said, leaning in until their lips were barely touching, “You certainly have a funny way of showing it.”

“Jesus,” Harry muttered, his heart pounding. After what seemed like an eternity, Draco covered the Gryffindor’s lips with his own, and the room started that damn spinning again. Harry wasted no time responding, and parted his lips willingly as Draco deepened the kiss.

‘This is wrong. This is so wrong!’ Harry’s conscious screamed, ‘What the hell are you doing?! This is Draco! Fuck! I mean Malfoy! What the fuck are you doing making out with him in the middle of the Goddamn hall?’

His thoughts were interrupted as the Slytherin’s hand slid down his body to grasp his hips, creating more delicious friction.

‘No, no, NO! Stop it Harry! WE’RE NOT DOIN IT!!’

Draco sucked Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth and rolled his hips, and even the Gryffindor’s conscious couldn’t fight back a moan. He felt a sudden loss as Malfoy broke the kiss, but it was soon forgotten when he felt his lips on his neck.

‘Malfoy you evil hot bastard!’ He dug his nails into the Slytherin’s back as he continued the assault on his neck. The raven-haired wizard let his head fall back against the wall, granting Malfoy better access. Then he noticed that the arm Malfoy was using to brace himself against the wall was partially exposed. If he could only get the sleeve up a little higher, he could see if there was a certain evil mark underneath it. Reluctantly, Harry raised his hand to Draco’s wrist, attempting to push his sleeve out of the way. But the lips on his neck and the hips grinding against his were making it almost impossible.

This did not go unnoticed by Draco, who just laughed at the Golden Boy’s unsuccessful attempts. “Harry, “ he whispered against his ear, “Do you really care?”

The Gryffindor fought with the sleeve and his conscious for a few moments before he decided that, no, he really didn’t give a shit.

‘Fuck it. We’re doin’ it.’

He abandoned the uncooperative sleeve and threw his arms around Malfoy’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Harry felt him smile against his lips as the Slytherin’s hand left the wall and slid around to the back of his neck, his fingers entwining in the raven coloured hair. 

Still rolling his hips, his thumb slipped beneath the lining of Harry’s jeans and rubbed against the inside of his hipbone. Evidently a weak spot, as the Gryffindor broke the kiss in a moan and arched his back against the wall.

“So, the Boy Who Lived has a weak spot,” Draco smiled, continuing to massage the newly-found weak spot and producing low moans from the boy pinned against the wall. The Slytherin then returned his attention to his neck, taking his time on a particular spot that made Harry’s knees buckle. He continued ravishing his neck as he ripped open the Golden Boy’s shirt, running his hands over the smooth skin he exposed.

Another loud crack of thunder silenced Harry’s moans as a flash of lightning filled the hallway with more blinding light, revealing a sight that would make even Voldemort blush. Harry’s head was now thrown back against the wall; Draco’s name escaping his lips as said Slytherin continued to grind against him. 

“Still think I’m a Death Eater, Potter?” Draco asked, licking the spot on his neck where he left his mark.  
“I don’t really give a shit what you are, Malfoy,” he breathed, “Just don’t stop.”

Although he’d never admit it, Draco couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He stole the Gryffindor’s lips in another heated kiss, and grabbed his belt loops for leverage as he rocked against him. Harry arched his back for more contact, pulling on the taller boy’s robes to bring him closer. Malfoy took advantage of this, and the Gryffindor’s exposed neck, running his tongue along his throat and back to his lips. His hand slipped between them to the zipper on Harry’s jeans; unzipping it as slow as humanly possible. He licked the Gryffindor’s lower lip before dropping to his knees in front of him. Pulling the jeans aside, Draco attached his lips to the inside of Harry’s hipbone, tasting the skin.

The assault on his weak spot was too much for Harry. He cried out as his knees buckled completely and he nearly collapsed. The Slytherin caught him and pinned him back against the wall. “It doesn’t take much for you, does it?”

Harry didn’t answer. Instead he covered the Slytherin’s lips with his own, hooked his fingers in his belt and pulled him back against him. Draco got the message and restarted the rhythm of his hips as he devoured the Gryffindor’s mouth. His breath becoming uneven as he slowly lost control.

Here he was, in the middle of the corridor with his tongue down his worst enemy’s throat, who he had pinned against the wall. And who was now screaming his name as he came.

The thought was too much for Draco. He broke the kiss in a moan as a mind-blowing orgasm ripped through him.

Their unintentionally loud little communiqué would have woken the whole school if it hadn’t been for another conveniently loud crack of thunder at just the right moment. But neither of them would’ve cared even if it did.

Draco rested his head against Harry’s shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. “Well,” he said finally, “That was fun.” Harry tried to laugh but didn’t have the strength or enough oxygen to. But when the Slytherin looked at him with that damn sexy smile, he decided that he did have enough strength to kiss him.

Draco responded immediately, his tongue sliding back into the Gryffindor’s mouth. The kiss was less demanding this time, but just as hot, and the Slytherin felt the familiar heat pooling back in his stomach.

“Harry,” he said reluctantly, “We have to stop.” He pulled back unwillingly, his face flushed with heat. 

“We’ll do this again,” Draco promised, tracing his jaw line. He leaned in and bit the Gryffindor’s lower lip before backing away from the wall. 

Harry buttoned his shirt with extreme difficulty, cursing the Slytherin who was laughing is his feeble attempts. He was about to walk away when Draco grabbed him by his tie, slamming him back against the wall in another heated kiss. But before he had time to react, it was over.

“Remember what I said, Potter,” he added, his voice still thick with lust, “Let it go.” He released his grip on Harry’s tie, gave him one last promising wink, and walked away.

The only sound was the pouring rain outside the castle walls, occasionally interrupted by echoing thunder; which had ultimately saved them from an embarrassing discovery. Harry was left alone; speechless and barely capable of coherent thought. But alone in the hallway, with the rain as his only companion, Harry decided that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate Malfoy too much after all.

 

Huzzah! I'm finally done! I'm actually proud of this story. Which rarely happens. But then again it did take me FOREVER! lol

SPECIAL THANKS TO: APOLLONIA MORALES, STACEY BUCKLEW, DANIEL RADCLIFFE, TOM FELTON, ANDY “WE'RE NOT DOIN' IT” GROFT, ZACH NOEL, THE RIHGA ROYAL, MY CHRISTMAS TREE, PEPSI COLA, GUMMY BEARS, THE CHOCOLATE MOOSE, GOLLUM, R/C THEATRES (NO NEVERMIND THEY SUCK), BOX OFFICE (FOR ALL THE FREE TIME =P), ORLANDO BLOOM, GODIVA CHOCOLATE, KEANU REEVES, SPAGHETTI-O'S, JOHNNY DEPP, 'RED EYE,' CILLIAN MURPHY, 'PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN,' 'CONSTANTINE,' 'LORD OF THE RINGS,' AND MAD-EYE RUDY.


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